Blunt Edge Of a Tonfa
by Singular Poisonous Ashes
Summary: Kyouya's sister has been in prison for a crime she did not commit. His. Is all forgiven? Or does she still harbour some ill will towards him? Chapter one revamp completed.


Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter one.

You would think from all those rumours that Hibari Kyouya, was a cold hearted bastard. And, at first glance, it would seem that those rumours happened to be true. Those who crossed his path were beaten up whenever the urge struck him. Sometimes he would excuse his actions as punishing the rule breakers of his school. At other times, it was simply obvious that he enjoyed terrorizing the population of Namimori right to his soul. With that catchphrase of his he gave insensitive for many a teenage girl to pull the wrong conclusion, before shattering said conclusion through the smart use of a tonfa to the face. People avoided him, and that was the exact way he liked it.

I'd have to say that I agree with the opinion the general public was in possession of where my brother was concerned. That is because, despite being his sister, he didn't give me any slack, either. Don't get me wrong - this doesn't mean I hold a grudge against him, or anything. Bad nature or no, he was still my brother. I'd gone to jail for him, after all, and voluntarily so. If I hadn't, then he'd be the one in a prison cell right now and Namimori as a whole would probably be a lot safer. Still, that wasn't what happened, and he has yet to forgive me for the audacity of taking on his sentence as if I were the perpetrator of his crimes.

This was because he'd been expecting me to act as his alibi, but I had done that a few times before, and you can imagine that eventually I didn't want to be an accessory any longer, brother or not. I also knew, though, that if I didn't do anything and leave him to rot, the guilt would overwhelm me and I would be living a living hell for as long as he remained incarnated. What was I to do but take on his crimes as my own? It also seemed to have mellowed my brother down, as he hasn't yet come into contact with the police since.

My name is Hibari Yuu, though that was way too short a name for me, so I tended to go with nicknames. It was made with the characters for  
_優_ which mean gentleness and superiority as well as _悠_ which means distant and leisurely. It's obvious to see what my parents were thinking when they gave me such a name, ne? Speaking of which, Kyouya basically means cooperation, apricot, and some other things that don't suit him at all.

I suppose that makes sense, considering our parents couldn't exactly see in the future to the kind of people we would turn out to be. It's funny thinking how we could have swapped names, considering his fit me more and mine fit him more. . . sans the leisurely and gentleness. But I digress - my name is Hibari Yuu, and I've been in prison for quite some time now, and there was but one week left until I was going to be allowed out.

That would mean precisely a year had passed - and that I'd missed quite a lot of school. Did that mean I have to stay one class behind? I didn't know, and my parents hadn't bothered to tell me in the rare times they would spare to visit me in prison. Don't get me wrong, I'm not holding a grudge. It just annoys me that Kotone (my mother) hadn't kept me up to date. It had probably just slipped both of their minds, though. They were pretty distant, high focus people who could spare their attention on their work and not much else. Still, just one more week, and I would have to face the music. I was already dreading it.

A week later, I found myself on the Namimori street on course towards the Namimori local school, and the one my brother attended. It was to surprise him, as I'm pretty sure that mother and father weren't waiting for me back home with any sort of welcoming banquet planned. There wasn't much else to do, as the paperwork for my re-attendance was still being processed and it meant it would take a few days before I could join my schoolmates with studying and living the normal life of a normal highschooler and not someone who'd just spent around a year in jail.

So, as I made my way through the crowded streets, it felt a bit surreal to mingle with normal, sane people again. Of course, this did not meant my fellow inmates weren't sane. Just that there was such a thing as a prison culture, so everyone who was everyone acted as they were not. Just in case. It was a bit difficult shaking off the habits I'd learned - shoulders back, chin tilted upwards in defiance, face a hard and cold mask - and just relax. I thrust my hands in my jeans, trying to regain my equilibrium.

I only needed to make my way through two blocks and then I'd be at my soon-to-be school. The nervousness made my throat dry and my tongue feel heavy. I pulled my hands from my pockets, fidgeting with the hem of my button down shirt. It was a white and black checkered one, and I'd only just purchased it. It would stand out among all those uniform fitted students. My eyebrows knitted together as I wondered how not to stand out, because I didn't want to receive undue attention when I wasn't specifically setting out to make a spectacle of myself.

Finally, I turned the corner and across the street lay the open gate of Nami-chu.

When Tsuna arrived at school, excruciatingly late, he was utterly surprised at Hibari's absence, who typically stood at the gate, ready to bite any lategoers to 'death.' Not only that, but Hibari's minions (the other prefects) weren't there either. That meant he could slip into the school grounds without any of the usual hassle and blood loss that would otherwise result from his almost perpetual state of tardiness. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Concussion successfully evaded.

His stomach turned itself over in anxiety as he ascended the steps leading him to the second floor, where his classroom happened to be. His classmates were made out of a pack of hungry coyotes and he could never be in their presence without something embarrassing happening, which he would then be endlessly mocked about. The worst thing was that it was his anxiety and nerves that made him screw up so much, so the more they presented an angry front towards him, the more he tripped and flailed and got himself made fun off. It was a vicious, vicious circle.

His class proceeded as it always did. The teacher lectured, pointing at the diagrams on the blackboard, and his classmates decided that this would make a perfect time to pick on him. So, while he was penning down the formula the maths teacher was discussing, he felt something heavy hit the back of his head. He reached out, angling his arm behind his back, and combed through his hair until he found the evidence of something. He pulled it from his hair to stare at him, cheeks growing a fetching red. The object happened to be a napkin scrunched into a ball and soaked with ink, that was already starting to drip into his sleeve.

The teacher, who'd turned her back on the class, failed to notice. Tsuna reluctantly raised his voice, hands shaking. "Teacher, can I go to the bathroom please?" He was given permission, something that barely happened, and Tsuna thanked his luck before standing up from his desk in one jerky motion. He left for the bathroom, his classmates subdued giggles following him all the way there. Then he stood before the mirrors capturing his every movement, his digits tucking through the individual locks in an attempt to wipe the ink right off. It was for not.

He reassessed the damage to his hair. His once auburn hair was now a dull shaded black, and he would fit right in with any person he'd pick out of the street. There was no originality - no evidence of his mother's red or his father's dirty blonde. He stood there, hands clenched to his sides, frowning. That was when he caught a glimpse in the mirror of a reflection that was not his own.

It was a girl and she was just standing there, her dark brown hair covering the front of her face in choppy layers, deep blue eyes only faintly to be seen from convenient gaps from in between the individual locks. It was like someone without a hairdressers license had gone through her locks with the use of a razor, but rather than trying to sheer it all off, they had tried to make an outright mess of it. Outside of her haircut, the girl was in possession of a willowy build and a mostly clear complexion, holding her linked hands behind the small of her back, smiling sort of vacantly. Maybe she was deep in her thoughts.

He eeped when she decided to address him, cutting his surveillance of her short.

I had safely entered into the hallowed halls of Nami-chu - my brother's most earnest possession. The only problem was, that after a year as a jail bird, I had no clue about the layout and where exactly I would find him. I knew that he'd taken control over the reception room, where the staff should actually receive their guests like those interested in donating to the school, but the problem was that I had no clue where it was stationed.

Class was already in session, so it would make sense that her brother was patrolling the corridors in search of those who were tardy. So, I didn't want to knock on the door of a classroom, because he wouldn't be inside anyway and it wasn't worth drawing attention for, when it was possible that I would find him by walking around aimlessly through the halls.

I turned eastward, hair swaying with the sharp movement before settling down back onto my shoulders. Now that I'd wasted a lot of my time simply traveling to this place, I actually needed to make use of the restroom. Since I'd passed by one not a moment ago, that shouldn't be too much of a problem. And indeed, when I followed the eastward corridor, I found the restrooms right where I'd left them.

There were two - since the rooms were gender segregated. Before I could step into the ladies' room, I noticed the arrival of a boy with short hair. He seemed not to notice me, a look of extreme anxiety painted upon his face, but his gait was surprisingly firm for someone who seemed to be so concerned about something or the other. This was very interesting to me, since I wouldn't have expected anyone to be in possession of such contrary aspects, and he'd also be able to point me in the direction of the reception room. . . I followed after.

Inside, I noticed black droplets running down his neck, and while he made inventory of his own reflection, I wondered what exactly had happened for such an awkward place to be covered with ink. Finally, I felt his gaze upon me. "And who would you be?" I questioned, before he turned around and started backing away, expression panicked. He'd let out a funny sounding squeak, so my lips formed into an indulgent smile to set him more at ease. I don't think that worked, since the grounded state of his stance seemed to have left him from out of his feet and he tripped right into my arms.

His face seemed to pale, the colour draining from it, and he squeezed his eyes shut like expecting a slap. Instead, I sat him back on his feet with a steadying hand to his waist and his shoulders. I also brushed the lint from his collar. "I don't wish to know anything about those ink stains," I told him bluntly and forged ahead before my words could be misunderstood, as he was apparently fond of doing. "I was just asking for my name. Look, I'll give you my own." I told him my name, and how I would answer to 'Hibari-kun,' since I wasn't really all that pleased with the shortness of my first name.

This only seemed to have worstened the situation, however, as he paled even more so that even the tips of his ears grew white. His voice, when he replied, was faint. ". . . Are you related to _that _Hibari?" Which sounded a bit harsher than he'd intended. I took offense, despite knowing he meant very little harm.  
"What do you mean, that Hibari? Why are you talking about my brother like that?" The update of that was that his eyes rolled in the back of their sockets, and he fainted.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust, though I wasn't as unkind as to allow him to collapse onto the cold tiles of the restroom. Instead, since it would be awkward if anyone entered the restroom while I was still here, I decided to take my leave whilst dragging the kid outside along with me. I'd passed by the nurses' office some time ago, and I don't doubt that a student fainting counted as enough reason to grant him a place. So that was my next destination. This kid had better be worth the extra effort thereof, as I was already starting to go through Kyouya withdrawal - he was so close, and yet so far.

He woke up when I'd been made to place him on the bed, jumping at the sight of me being so close. I backed of, raising my hands to show I did not mean any underlying harm, even though I'd pulled the prank a bit too far and made him faint. Fainting, meanwhile, was actually something I usually looked down upon, but for this kid I decided to make an exception, considering my older brothers' temperament. The kid must have thought me as bad as my brother, if I was willing to stand up for the latter. I wasn't, though. It was more like I heavily respected, feared and scorned him in equal measure. Kyouya could look after himself.

The nurse took inventory of the kid's well being, asking him questions on things, before he was sent away with a clean bill of health. In other words, the nurse had managed to gain the story of his fainting and since I'd caught him before he could collide with the merciless floor and since it was a fainting brought more by unnecessary shock than any underlying cause, there was no need for him to stay after.

"So," I said once we'd left the nurses' bay and had entered the corridor, "Could you tell me where the reception room is?" As, obviously, my brother was not patrolling the grounds as I'm pretty sure I've been in every nook and cranny and only ever seen those pompadour ridden minions of his. They could easily take on his job while he did some bureaucracy, which, despite what people thoughts, was also a necessary factor of regulating the school's population.

The kid, Tsunayoshi, nodded his head, having regained his equilibrium after recognizing that I meant no harm. "It's over there," he pointed out of the window to the building opposite. He bit his lip, thinking to himself. "I could lead you there, if that's alright with you?" This Tsunayoshi was actually quite courteous, if uncertain. "Sure, be my guest," I told him whilst turning to the direction that would lead me to the staircase. I let him lead the way there, before my hand hovered over the doorknob to the reception room.

"Thanks a lot, Tsunayoshi-san," I told him with a quirk to my lips. He replied that it was no problem, but was a bit flustered at receiving the compliment. That wasn't a normal reaction, so it must be that he didn't receive them often. He left, turning his back on her and she turned to regard the insides of the room. Nobody was there, and it had not been locked. The reception room had been luxuriously furnished, a divan fitted proudly in the middle of the room, dyed a rich red.

I walked, making a beeline to the swivel chair which seemed to have been crafted with black leather. I sunk into the chair, linking my hands together and propping my elbows onto the desk sitting right in front of me. I wanted to know what he'd been up to and sneaking a look through the folders neatly lining his drawers would be a good (but stalkerish) first step. So, I broke the link between my fingers and pulled the drawers to my left side open, peeking inside at all the categorized content.

Meanwhile, a floor above her, Hibari was eating his lunch on the roof. He was actually quite surprised that nobody had seen fit to disturb him for once. Usually, there would be a problem with something that his minions would call his attention upon, or people unaware that the roof was his perch tended to enter and then freak out at his presence there, and he would be forced to cave their heads in with a brisk strike of the blunt edge of a tonfa. It was most distracting when that happened, and he was often in a grouchy mood for quite some time after, for so long until he shed the blood of a few people and resumed feeling cheered up.

He pushed a stick of pocky in between his lips, remembering that Yuu had liked it a lot. She especially liked the strawberry flavour, as well as various other strawberry flavoured products, but strawberries themselves were a bit too tart for her and she preferred to eat black cherries instead. The clouds above his head happened to look like cherries and that was what reminded him. . .

Wasn't she getting out of prison today? Then, had she already entered in his territory - Namimori middle? If so, that was unacceptable, as she was then surely trying to find out what he had been doing for the past year - the easiest of which was to look through his records. He pushed himself to his feet, sticking his packet of pocky back in his coat pocket, before hurrying in the direction of the reception room.

He would probably be able to intercept her before she noticed the folder labeled 'protection money,' or else she would probably lecture him again.

"Yuu, what are you doing?" Kyouya asked from the threshold of the room. I pulled my hands back as if they were burnt, face contorting into an apologetic, grimacing mask. "Ay. . you took so much time, I decided to take it upon me to help you tidy up your drawers, but apparently they didn't need tidied." I shrugged beneath my button down, turning the chair around so I could keep him in my field of vision.

From the look on his face, it was obvious he did not believe me. That look just screamed 'bullshit.' Ah well, it had been worth a try. I kicked myself away from the desk, folding my hands above my knees. "You took a while. Was it lunch? If so, don't you have school?" Even if he did patrol the school on an hourly surely it wasn't completely legal for him to completely avoid attending at least a few periods of his classes.

"Are you going to stay here?" Kyouya asked, rather than take the bait and be the cause of the eruption of yet another argument. I leaned back into the chair's leather exterior. "I wasn't planning on it. Is that your way of asking me to leave you alone?" And tell me to return to home, to an empty house as mother and father were probably out working. He sent me another look, hand twisted around the handle of his tonfa. That was probably a confirmation to the question. I grimaced a second time.

". . . I didn't like it there," I confessed before I could get kicked out, though I did leave the swivel chair with the high back for him to settle into and made myself comfortable on the divan.  
"Common sense," Hibari answered, turning towards his desk. He checked the drawers, fingers sliding in between the individual folders, for any evidence that I had been messing with things that did not concern me.

". . . . . " I couldn't reply, watching him whilst he occupied himself with a mount of paperwork. The room settled into a slightly uncomfortable silence.

A/N This was the first chapter redone version of the Blunt Edge of a Tonfa. Enjoy her total different characterisation.


End file.
